The Oldest Kind of Magic
by the.goal.is.greatness
Summary: Once the gears of love begin to move, nothing can stop them. [Arthur x Merlin] [PWP]


**Title:** The Oldest Kind of Magic  
 **Genre:** Romance  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Pairing:** Merlin x Arthur  
 **Spoilers:** N/A  
 **Summary:** Once the gears of love begin to move, nothing can stop them.  
 **Word Count:** 2,130  
 **Warnings:** N/A

 **Disclaimer:** Not mine. Summary isn't mine, but I couldn't find the appropriate credit?

 **A/N:** PWP

* * *

Arthur isn't sure when he first noticed that the stirrings of emotion that Merlin evoked in him were anything but platonic – that they were more than a prince for his servant, more than a friend for a friend. All he knew was that no man – no woman either – had ever occupied his thoughts, his dreams, the way Merlin did. He would focus on Merlin without realizing it, be drawn into the trap of blue, blue eyes, feel his eyes zero in without warning on the tilt of mouth as that cheeky devil oozed charm. He heard Merlin's voice in his sleep.

But now he wasn't thinking of that, all he was thinking about was the all-consuming fear he'd felt when he'd seen Merlin in the middle of a wind storm and bandits – in danger, too far away for Arthur to reach. The sight of Merlin in peril touched something inside his chest, a raw Merlin-hole that he hadn't even known had existed until confronted with the void. But now that he felt it, it made him ragged with loneliness that he can't face. He needed Merlin, needed to see that he was safe, whole, unharmed, _here_.

"Hey, Arthur I –"

The door to his room sprang open suddenly, emitting the very person he wanted – needed – to see, and swung shut behind him. Merlin trailed off at the look on Arthur's face: poised and focused and hungry, his eyes lit like piercing blue lamps.

 _Merlin is here,_ Arthur thought wonderingly, bright and real and out of harm's way. He stood slowly from his desk and took a few prowling steps towards Merlin, and each time, Merlin took a corresponding step back, until he was pressed tightly against the door, staring at Arthur… in expectation? The air between them sizzled and burned with awareness.

"Arthur – "

He didn't get to finish, because at the sound of his name, Arthur closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. He kissed him fiercely, possessively, pouring out all of the fear he had felt when he'd seen Merlin in Ealdor, standing there in danger, unprotected, vulnerable. Anything could have happened to him. Anything. He pressed into Merlin harder, trying to be as close as possible, wanting to prove to himself that he was fine.

When Merlin keened in protest, Arthur drew back in shock at his own actions. He hadn't meant to – he didn't know what he'd wanted – but –

But Merlin was staring at him, eyes blue fire. There were flecks of gold in his eyes, Arthur realized. He had never noticed that before. He opened his mouth to make excuses, but then Merlin started smiling, and something deep inside his chest unclenched and relaxed. He was smiling up at Arthur in a way that sent a flare of pure heat down his spine. It was a wicked smile. Full of anticipation…

Arthur's heart stopped for a moment, and when it picked up it thundered in his ears.

When he fidgeted against him, Arthur realized the door handle was digging into the curve of his spine, and Merlin arched a brow at him in consternation. "Maybe," he swallowed thickly, throwing Arthur a glance from those laughing, wicked eyes of his. "Maybe the bed would be better?" Arthur could hear the tremor of desire in his voice, making Merlin's voice guttural and husky. But now that Arthur had him, he meant to make Merlin cry out his name in pleasure, grip him by the shoulders, beg him for more. Make Merlin his, make sure he never risked his life like that again.

With his hands gripped tight in Merlin's shirt, he spun them around, pushing him back towards the bed. When Merlin's knees hit the frame, he tumbled backwards onto the mattress. Whatever cry of surprise he'd been about to give, Arthur swallowed up when he smashed their mouths back together. With the first moment of shock at his actions over, Arthur let his hands wander, too excited to stay still. His hands flit from place to place – a press of bruising fingertips on the curve of Merlin's hips, teasing fingers dancing up his side, counting ribs through the thin layer of clothing, fingers tangling with Merlin's and forcing his hands above his head.

Merlin was panting beneath him, hips shifting restlessly, murmuring encouraging noises under his breathing that made Arthur arch into him indistinctly, made him press their mouths together so harshly that teeth and tongue clacked together. When the need for air was too much, Arthur pulled away, panting harshly into Merlin's mouth.

"That's much better." Arthur could feel the secretive smile against the curve of his cheek, could hear the unevenness of Merlin's voice.

Arthur drew back to stare at him in wonder, taking a moment to drink in the sight of Merlin splayed beneath him, hair tousled, lips bruised, arms pinned above him. "I want you." His voice was a growling whisper. When Merlin smiled at him knowingly, Arthur felt the spark of challenge surge through him. He leaned down, close, closer, delighting in the subtle movement of Merlin titling his face up, sure of his intention. But Arthur bypassed that mouth, let his cheeks trail ever so lightly over chin and cheek, up to his ear. "Do you want me?" Arthur felt the shudder surge through the body under him. He gripped the wrists tighter, at the same time arching his hips into Merlin's in a slow roll that made his vision white-out in pleasure. Merlin moaned beneath him.

When Arthur turned back to gloat, Merlin blinked open eyes shut in bliss, and Arthur leaned back in surprise to stare. Those blue, blue eyes that Arthur had grown so fond of were filling with gold, as if the molten liquid was rising from his depths. When those hazy eyes began to look uncertain at Arthur's scrutiny, Arthur gave a mental shake of his head. The more aware Merlin became, the more blue his eyes faded to. With a cocky half smile he leaned back down, pressing a kiss to the corner of Merlin's mouth, trailing these feather light presses across his cheek, towards the smooth column of throat.

Arthur wasn't an idiot, he knew there was something up with Merlin. Of course, he hadn't really thought Merlin was magic, just that he knew who was. But there was no way to change what Merlin was, and if Arthur had to guess, he'd wager Merlin had used that magic time and time again to protect Arthur. Like at Ealdor. Just the thought made Arthur grind into Merlin again and, when he released a groan, Arthur glanced up to see that Merlin's eyes were shot through with golden lightning.

He was willing to bet that Merlin didn't even know his eyes did that in this kind of circumstance. And, since no one else had turned him in for witchcraft, it was probably safe to say that no one else had seen Merlin in such a situation. The though pleased Arthur immensely. He would be the only one to make Merlin loose his mind with want.

He brushed away that red bandana with his nose and skimmed his mouth over the sensitive spot under his ear. Merlin made a strangled sound and turned his face away, inadvertently baring more of the slender column of skin. Or perhaps not so inadvertent, Arthur thought, and settled his mouth back against Merlin's neck. He nipped at the skin lightly, delighting in the squirming from beneath him. He could feel Merlin pushing at the weight of his hand, trying to get Arthur to release his wrists from their trapped position. But Arthur merely continued with his slow, languid pace of laving his way down that throat. When he reached the junction where his neck became his shoulder, Arthur bit down hard enough to mark that skin as his.

With a ragged cry, Merlin arched off the bed, wrists sliding from Arthur's grasp and immediately flying into the prince's hair, holding him by his hair in place. Arthur chuckled darkly at the way Merlin was shuddering against him. Sliding up in order to reach his ear, he spoke in a harsh, panting voice. "Is that why you always cover your neck?" With his hands free, he reached down with one in order to brush tantalizing fingertips down to opposite column of throat. Merlin panted. "I could make you come undone just from this," his voice was wondering and he felt nearly faint with the thought. "Would you like that?"

When Merlin scraped his nails down Arthur's skull, Arthur's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation. Okay maybe he'd save that for next time. With a groan, he tumbled them both back down onto the mattress, hands impatient to feel more skin. Merlin wasn't idle either. Every brush of those hands against a newly revealed piece of Arthur's skin made his breath hitch, made his finger fumble with buttons and belt buckles. He needed to press their skin together, he needed –

He didn't remember making sure Merlin was ready, but he didn't complain when Arthur sank into him. His hands fisted in the sheets, his head was thrown back, just begging to be kissed and bitten and marked. Arthur felt his eyes rolling back with glorious agony, one hand was clenched on Merlin's hip tight enough that tomorrow they'd discover five perfect finger pad sized bruises. His other hand he reached up with to grasp Merlin by the chin and wrench his mouth down to wear he could reach. Tongues twirled, breathe came hard and fast. So close –

Arthur pulled his mouth away to breathe, when Merlin stared up at him through hazy eyes, his eyes were golden sunlight, golden as cat's eyes, no blue left in their bright depths. Undone. With a groan, Arthur pressed his face into the curve of Merlin's neck and shoulder, his eyes pressed tightly closed. He had almost lost this, almost never knew what he was missing. Merlin could have been hurt, he could have _died_ –

Another cry, heartsick and weak, as Arthur tried to press himself closer, closer, closer. He wanted to sink into Merlin's skin, wanted to melt together until they were so close Arthur would never have to worry about him again. He wanted to keep Merlin shut up in his room, where no one else could ever hear the keening cries he made under his breath with every thrust, where no one could feel the smoothness of his skin, so no one could touch the delicate curve of his neck and watch him melt. So Arthur would be the only one in the world who knew what Merlin's eyes went sunlit gold with magic when he came undone.

He was panting severely against Merlin's skin, could feel the goosebumps breaking out, so with one, two, three harsh thrusts, he bit down fiercely on that skin and felt Merlin go rigid with release. Nails dug into Arthur's shoulder blades, legs tightened around his waist, but it was Merlin's star struck murmur of Arthur's name that sent him plunging over his own plateau.

Legs shaking as Merlin lowered them, Arthur raised his head to stare at Merlin, who was looking rumpled and shy and relaxed. With a start, Arthur realized that he loved him. Loved him more than he'd been starting to think he might. Probably, in fact, adored him beyond all shred of commonsense.

Merlin was still watching him, the golden gleam of his eyes slowly starting to fade back to blue flecked with amber. Arthur watched the change with fascination, hoping to see more of it. As he watched, Merlin loosed a jaw cracking yawn.

"I should go –"

"Why?" Arthur hadn't meant to speak, but he meant what he said, though he could see Merlin looked as astonished as he felt. "No one would bother you in here." Merlin watched him for a long moment, before reaching up and yanking Arthur down, tumbling them into a tangle of limbs and sheets. In a moment, Merlin had situated himself curled back into Arthur's stomach and was, judging by the soft snoring, already fast asleep.

Arthur blinked at his abrupt change in position, before reaching out one hand to drag one soft fingertip down the length of spine that was bared to him, eyes softening as goosebumps were left in his finger's wake. Knowing he shouldn't, but unable to help himself, he let those same fingers brush against the curve of neck, grin widening when Merlin gave a mewling cry, hips bucking in his sleep.

Arthur chuckled. He knew how he'd be waking Merlin up later.


End file.
